


The Moons and the Monster

by HalewynsLady



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: FtLoSW, Shadow Weaver reaping the benefits of raising Adora, Shadow Weaver's mother instincts going all over the place despite her ineptitude at being a mother, disfunctional family, mind out of the gutter please :) okay I totally led you there, mother-daughter, no not in a sexual manner, to be in a constant state of hurt and loyalty to her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:34:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21933046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalewynsLady/pseuds/HalewynsLady
Summary: Mother-daughter in the woods one-shot.
Comments: 11
Kudos: 21





	The Moons and the Monster

Some day I will write Shadow Weaver approximately healthy and in her full powers and maybe even happy, it will be glorious, but today is not the day.  
Have a Red Riding Weaver for the holidays. :)

Presenting, a one shot for shadow - Umisshadowweaverlover - inspired by this awesome request: "so shadow weaver had been feeling a little weak still from being healed so she goes to the whispering woods to pick berries and then she starts running a fever and gets attacked all the sudden by a wild animal and adora after awhile starts to get worried and goes to look for her and finds her in the woods on the ground unconscious and running a extremely high fever"

*exit author pursued by bear*

************

Shadow Weaver stalked through the woods. The night was dark. The moons were shining bright above. Full moons all of them. Not one hampering the other. These woords were full of unknown horrors. She had to face them for the berries which could not grow in any other, safer, place. She had to stop tripping over these vines. The lost art of walking in rough terrain. It had gone underappreciated by her for too many years.  
It was fine, shadows crafted their own way. These woods would not be problem to her.  
She groaned in pain, put her hand against the bark of a tree. No problem. Hell, this was getting worse. She could scarcely breathe.  
She had nearly collected enough berries. She started to eat a few, their healing qualities were more potent when cooked but this was getting insufferable, when one of the nearby trees approached.  
Due to its seize and cry, she named it a bear. It was most certainly not a bear. The fact that she did not know this type of beast was troubling in itself.  
She raised her arms, called upon her darkest powers. Those were too busy elsewhere to obey her command.  
A protection charm was all she could draw up before the beast slammed into her with all its might.

"The prisoner has escaped!" Glimmer shouted in full alert.  
"Quite a feat, as you let her roam about freely."  
"I'll go." Adora grabbed her cape and sturdiest boots honestly grasping the opportunity to be away from the drama in the palace.  
Glimmer and her had not been seeing eye to eye lately. Thank you, Shadow Weaver, for turning my best friend against me. They had brought this upon themselves, by keeping her here. This annoyed Adora because the woman mattered most to her and at times, all the time, her affection for Shadow Weaver angered her.  
Last time the sorceress had 'escaped' a search party of thirty trained warriors had set out and traced her to the nearest town's bookshop-tearoom.  
This time Adora traced her "mother" 's footsteps to... the whispering woods. 

Adora found her.  
The beast had gone, having wisely deemed her not fit for consumption. Unlike a bear, it had not eaten the berries.  
Adora gathered the for once surprisingly rather small-looking presence up in her arms, lifting the head, hearing her breathe.  
"If it isn't Glimmer's new favourite..." Adora spoke to herself, more bitterly than she would like.  
Shadow Weaver came to in her arms, if only for a moment.  
"I am so proud of you." Shadow Weaver muttered. A concussion, Adora feared. "Adora..."  
"I know, you can use me now. I exist again. Hoo-bloody-rah."  
"You are always my daughter." Of course she would say that.  
"I am a great hero with a mighty sword."  
"You are even greater without it." And of course she would say that too. Her words were too perfect, her love always felt too genuine and when her acts so often would contradict both Adora would hurt even more.  
No sword-healing she told herself. Not again.  
She is not worth it.  
Adora clenched her jaw the exact moment Shadow Weaver lost conciousness.  
Thin tendrils of shadow reached out to her from her mother's body, recognising her and Adora felt unwanted shame at this reminding her of what it is like having Shadow Weaver for a mother, when she is feeling up for being motherly that is. She was so very gently, so very loving then, holding you like there is no one else of importance in the world, talking as if she has made time disappear just for you, just to share her stories and wisdom with you.  
These tendrils she used to grasp at as a child, how she must have squealed with joy, reaching for them. Her hand going either clear through the shadows or catching a strand, solid by Shadow Weaver's will, and holding it up like trophy or maybe a still writhing snake. A comparison that fit Shadow Weaver well. A snake, with fangs no doubt.  
Adora still howled when she found her like this.  
Another beast had taken a swing at her.  
Adora saw no blood, found no wounds to speak of. She would have to take down that fever, she knew of a river nearby to cool her in, and she would have to carry her home. She even gathered the berries, angrily, in the honestly silly-looking woven basket Shadow Weaver had carried. She could not do any of this as She-Ra. She had to do this as Adora. Shadow Weaver was her malicious Achilles heel. She should suffer for her. Which was awful since She-Ra was much stronger than her. Morally she could not take on the guise of a legendary hero for Shadow Weaver, again. Neither could she help Shadow Weaver along death's path when faced with this opportunity. 

"Thank you, my darling brave Adora." Shadow Weaver said as they neared the palace.  
She was leaning on her, limping slighty as they went forth.  
Adora had nurtured her through a long night in the woods. She had eaten most of the berries.  
"The night is almost over."  
"And what of it? I will take you to a physician as soon as we are there."  
"No need."  
"You almost died." It was becoming a nasty habit. That, or the surviving part.  
"I bumped my head."  
"Against a monster and that illness..."  
"It is not an illness."  
"You were burning up!"  
"It is the moons."  
"Sure. Sorceresses don't get mundane sicknesses such as deathly fevers. It is a magically moon-related deathly fever. Much more stylish."  
"I had the Black Garnet before to buffer this."  
"Do I want to know what "this" is?"  
"Possibly not, my dear, but it would be best if you knew. For the future. It is my moons cycle."  
"Your periods?"  
"Yes, techinically speaking. On the brightest night of the month the dark spirits within me, that are me, seek to ravage me from inside."  
Adora wishes she had not asked.  
"I had not expected them to be this strong. They are fickle." She was lucky this had not occured sooner during her captivity.  
"They can kill you."  
"Yes, they can. I doubt they want to, even I am uncertain of how sentient they are, but they can." She paused. "They are milder when you are around. Probably because they care about you, I care about you."  
"I put your demons at ease because they are also my mother." In this moment Adora hated her life. "I'll get you chocolates. Every month." She did not want to pledge her monthly company, but that was inevitable.  
"Is that how much you love me?" Shadow Weaver cradled Adora's face, she brought her own face delicately close to Adora's. Certain she had secured herself a faithful berry-serving service from now on. Adora knew it too. She would risk her life for her wellbeing, every month, from now until forever.  
"I would do unspeakable things for you, my daughter."  
"Well." Adora broadened herself in defence. "Don't."  
Adora fought back tears and marched on. 

The End. :)


End file.
